Fallen Star
by lori-la-strange
Summary: One-shot. Bellatrix Lestrange doesn't do guilt. So why does she feel so nostalgic after she kills Sirius? Includes a twisted childhood flashback.


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Bellatrix one shot. It's just something I've always wanted to do. Love her or hate her, you've gotta admit she is one awesome character!

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns this twisted woman I assure you!

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I don't know what I'm feeling anymore.

It's rather disconcerting to me. I'm always so sure of my purpose. Of my motives. Of my reasons in life.

Because he is my life.

For countless years, I waited for him. My Lord. For fourteen years I waited - literally in hell. My unwavering faith was rewarded greatly. My appearance may be dishevelled. My mind fractured slightly. Yet I am free to stand by his side once more. Standing tall and resuming our noble mission... Free to be, to live, or to torture and kill whomever I wish.

Even my cousin.

Dammit. There it is again. This unknown feeling from within. I forced him through that veil. Ripped his life away from him. Laughed at his disgusting Godson's pain.

But now I feel it too. No, not pain. Can't be. I never feel pain emotionally. I refuse to. Not for him. Never for him. Yet...

I stare out of the Malfoy's manor window at the night sky above me. Stars stare right back, mocking me with the beauty I used to have. I see the various constellations, but my eyes stray to the one I despise. I want to rip his stupid Sirius star right out from the sky. It watches me. Shaming me…

Blacks are named after the stars because we are above everyone else. 'Higher Bella'. That's what my mother always told me. Yet his star is the brightest. Why? Why waste a name on that?

I see him falling. I see the look of mingled fear and surprise on his face as he falls. Over and over again. Why? WHY? Why do I keep seeing it?

I close my eyes and tug my hair viciously. Imagine what The Dark Lord would say if he were here. If he could see what I see in my mind. Would he forgive me then? I doubt it. I wouldn't want him to. I won't forgive myself for this weakness. I pruned the diseased part of my family tree. I should be ecstatic.

But I'm not.

When I was younger Andromeda, Narcissa and I would go over to Grimmaud Place for Christmas. I would stare at that family tree and really feel like a part the wizarding world. It stretches throughout the ages, and I'm a part of it. That tree made me realise how very special we are and that we must never defile the bloodline. I even loved the burns on the tapestry that my Aunt had made with her wand. Disowned relatives. They were a reminder that I must never bring shame to the family, but make them proud.

So I did.

One time, I was about twenty and Sirius must have only been around twelve. Already at that age he was showing signs of treachery. A Gryffindor whose closest friends were rumoured to be the worst kind of riff-raff. Appalling. Yet for some reason I had a soft spot for him. I admired the way he liked to break the rules and his quick wit and temper. Although it enraged his parents, it endeared him more to me (more so than Ickle Parent-Parrot Regulus anyway). This was because it was such a typical fiery Black trait that I shared with him, that it made me think there was hope for him yet. How very wrong I was.

Anyway, after a particularly unpleasant row - that I believed ended with him sporting a few bruises (from his mother naturally) - I was feeling slightly sorry for him. Not to mention worried and very frustrated with him too. I mean there he was, part of the purest, most powerful family around and he was infuriating everyone with pictures of muggle girls and talk of his wacky blood traitor pals. Argh! He was so annoyingly handsome too - another Black trait. He could be anything he wanted. But it seemed all he wanted to do was destroy himself. Despicable.

At the time, I actually tried to sympathise with him.

"Hey Ickle Siri! What you doing? Plotting world domination?" I said, bouncing up to him. He was leaning over the top floor banister, listening to his parents shout about him along with mine in the room bellow.

He jumped about a foot, saw it was I and turned away without hesitation. I didn't blame him. I know why. I could see the tears trailing down his face. I was embarrassed too.

He hastily wiped them away on his sleeve, "Sod off Smellatrix." He mumbled. Charming!

"What are you, six?" I replied harshly, laughing a little.

"Just leave me alone alright?" He shouted facing me, eyes dry. Maybe I imagined it. They did look a little red though...

__

Maybe he does care about our family.

I remember thinking that at the time, suddenly feeling a little warmer towards him. A shockingly unusual feeling to me, even then. 

I edge closer, though he looks furious. I actually use tact, remembering how even though he cannot use magic legally, he won't hesitate to sneakily slip a bug in my sandwich like before (when I kept using my baby voice on him). Therefore, I swallow the urge to call him a cry baby, and say what needs to be said.

"It's not too late you know." I whisper, looking into those clear grey eyes of his.

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" He replies bitterly.

"IF HE KEEPS GOING THIS WAY THEN HE'LL BE NO SON OF MINE!" I hear the deliberate screams of Walburga Black wafting up the stairs.

I wince instinctively. Her shouts are not pretty. She used to joke about having her portrait done, just so she could continue to keep an eye on (AKA shout at!) her family after death. Guess it wasn't an idle threat at all. Man, that painting could really scream...

I looked at Sirius. His eyes were not swimming with tears, but filled with resolute anger though I think I could see a flicker of pain concealed within. Then again, the hall was dark.

I tried to ease it, "Ahh Aunt Walburga's dulcet tones. Wouldn't be Christmas without it!" He raised his eyebrows at me. I guess it was a bit of a shock for him to hear me try to comfort another human being.

"As I was saying, it isn't too late for you, Siri. Isn't too late to change your ways."

He let out a harsh laugh, "You're telling me to change **my **ways? Unbelievable!"

At the time I thought this was a very rude thing to do, seeing as I was giving him the most important piece of advice in his life, but I pretended to laugh airily with him.

"No seriously..." I rolled my eyes at the accidental pun, as did he, "Listen my sweet baby cousin. You've simply got to change your ways. Embrace the Black way. Or you'll be very, very lonely I'm afraid."

He stared at me. Expression unreadable before saying, "Are you mental?" He now looked angry, "The Black way! What's that? Hate everything different? Pure blood mania? Live a life full of cruelty and hatred?"

"You ungrateful little..." I tried unsuccessfully to calm down, "You should be proud to be a Black!"

He squares up to me, "Well I'm not! I'm ashamed to be one!"

Then I slapped him across the face.

He reeled back in shock before recovering, "That's right, you hit me too then. I'm glad my mum hates me! I hate her and I hate you too!"

He tried to storm away but I grabbed his arm fiercely and desperately hissed at him, "Don't become another nameless burn on that tapestry Sirius."

His eyes locked on mine defiantly. Perhaps he saw the honesty there. Perhaps he saw the repulsion I instantly felt over my actions. Either way, he stopped struggling and something passed between us. Before we could say anything, an angry voice broke our gaze apart.

"Let go of him **now **Bella."

I turn and see my sister, Andromeda, glaring at me. I hated her right then. Still do. Disgusting Blood Traitor. She corrupted him as well, I just know it.

Haha...She loved Sirius so much. I wonder how she feels now. She wasn't able to protect him from me was she? That must kill her inside. She won't be able to protect her new family from me now, I swear…

That look he gave me...If that bitch hadn't interrupted us, I wonder if I'd have gotten through to him. I could have ranted at him all night. Anything to stop him from ending up like he did. Anything to stop him, to stop myself...

I peer at the stars once more. That moment could have changed everything between us. Instead it became a crossroads. He chose his path and I chose mine. And destroyed his.

It's not guilt.

I see his tear stained twelve-year-old face. Those sad, grey eyes that could suddenly blaze with fury. My cousin. My Sirius.

I will not mourn for him.

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I may develop a twisted Bellatrix story if you like this. Please review! Give me your opinions. Love it? Hate it? Plotting my death? Please share! xx


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